


There’s something broken about this {but I might be hoping about this}

by unkemptseeker



Series: My mind often drowns in the sea of words I let die. [2]
Category: Longmire (TV)
Genre: 6x02 compliant, Abrupt Ending, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Hurt/Comfort, Manipulative Relationship, Mild descriptions of violence, Out of Character, Walt finally facing some consequences, actual human emotions, canon levels of bullshit violence, i said what i said, season 6 can get wrecked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:42:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24665572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unkemptseeker/pseuds/unkemptseeker
Summary: 6x02 re-imagined from the momentthatscene ends. Because straight up FUCK THAT.
Relationships: Cady Longmire/Jacob Nighthorse
Series: My mind often drowns in the sea of words I let die. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/798378
Comments: 24
Kudos: 29





	There’s something broken about this {but I might be hoping about this}

**Author's Note:**

> This fic wouldn't exist without several cheerleaders. My never ending thanks to [Ash,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackandsamforever/pseuds/jackandsamforever) and [Q_Drew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Q_Drew/pseuds/Q_Drew). XOXO!
> 
> Sooooo, hi! ::plops down in the inflatable lift raft that's this ship:: Yes, I am back on my bullshit. This ship holds a very special place in my heart and [Ash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackandsamforever/pseuds/jackandsamforever) and I got to the point this year where we just couldn't take it anymore, hence this little revival!! 
> 
> This is probably (hopefully), the last time I will touch S6 material, alas, I "re-watched" (thanks fast forward technology), parts of S5/S6 a few months ago and this was born out of my rage.  
> Enjoy!

Her body starts to tremble, the adrenaline wearing off at rapid pace while she attempts to open her car door for the third time. The stony faced security guard that followed her out is hovering two feet away, and she can feel his eyes fixed on her. Getting more frustrated by the second, she angrily yanks off her leather coat, throwing it on the ground and leans against her car door. Her mind goes a bit blank; she just needs to get in her car. 

_Just one step at time_ , she tells herself. 

Pulling back, Cady finally manages to get the key in, and the sound of the mechanism unlocking makes her hands shake. The guard is using his walkie-talkie, watching her scoop up her coat, and throw it into the passenger seat. Once the door shuts it dulls the noise of the outside, she can almost pretend she isn’t sitting in Jacob’s driveway, feeling utterly ashamed. 

A motion in the rear view mirror gets her attention, and she finds it impossible to not watch the guard walk back up the grated river rock driveway towards the figure of Jacob, barely visible in the distance. 

__Know thyself__ , she thinks, taking a shuddering breath and starting the car. She has no doubt she’ll be crying off and on for the next twenty-four hours at least. Trying to stop is futile, and Cady checks her mirror before backing up through a blur of unshed tears. She makes it about a mile before she pulls over, hurriedly scrambling out of the car before dry heaving into the nearest bush, a fresh sob catching painfully in her chest. For a few moments she just sits and lets herself cry, wonder how in the fuck things had ended up like this. 

_Well that’s easy_ , her brain interjects, while she wipes at her swollen, snotty face. __Her dad__. 

Cady freezes, watching the wind brush the tall grass nearby and it sends a chill up her spine. How in the fuck had she _not_ thought of this earlier. Her dad. Her dad’s, well, as she’d called it, ‘irrational Nighthorse obsession’. Bolting up she runs back around the car, getting in and slamming the door. Frantically, she turns her purse upside down, letting everything fall to the floor, throwing the bag aside the second she spots her cell phone. 

“Pick up, pick up,” she chants into the phone as it disjointedly rings. 

“Cady, I had--” 

The literal second Henry’s voice enter’s her ear she falls apart, her sobbing interrupting whatever Henry had been about to say. 

Henry’s saying her name over and over, trying to get her to calm down. He switches to Cheyenne for a moment and Cady faintly hears the sound of a door closing in the background. 

“What is going on?” 

She takes multiple shaky breaths, forcing words out in between. “Dad...said...he…,” she can’t get anything else out so she just sits back in the seat, pressing her free hand against her eyes, not caring that it's instantly drenched with tears. 

“What did Walt say, Cady?” Henry’s voice is a calming presence normally, but she can hear the beginnings of frustration in his tone. 

She tries multiple times to respond, but each attempt is just a mishmash of sounds. Finally, after what feels like an hour she can feel her body relax enough that she thinks she can get it all out. “He said that he found you on Jacob’s stakes on the Crow Reservation, he said...” her voice trembles terribly, and she hears Henry sigh audibly. She can practically see his expression of annoyance at her words. 

“I specifically told him Malachi was responsible,” Henry says tightly. 

She’s crying again, over the sound of Henry continuing to talk, the urge to throw up creeping back up her throat. “...Jacob is many things, but stupid is not one of them,” he finishes, his voice trailing off. 

“I--I…,” Cady tries to breathe, tries to steady herself, clenching her eyes shut. All she can see though is the stunned look on Jacob’s face when she’d---. Shoving the door open again she barely makes it around the front of the car. This time her stomach has fully revolted and whatever’s left of her morning cup of coffee splashes across her boots. 

“Cady! Are you alright?” 

She feels numb, leaning on the hood of the Jeep. “I believed him,” she says, so softly she’s not even sure Henry’s heard her. Her hands are trembling again, and it feels like they don’t even belong to her, how could her hands have done such a thing? How could she? 

Cady takes a deep breath, finally, swallowing the disgusting leftover taste of her own vomit. 

“Whatever has happened Cady--” Henry begins, but her mind is racing, and coming to a conclusion that borders on tunnel vision. 

“I have to go now Henry,” she says woodenly, hanging up. 

Cady slides back into the driver's seat, shoves her phone in the glove box and buckles up. Meeting her own eyes in the rear-view mirror she has a feeling that she’s irrevocably about to change everything.

____________________________

Henry purses his lips at the tone of Cady’s voice. He tries to stop her, but she’s hung up before he can finish a word, now it's just the sound of emptiness in his ear. 

Frowning, he immediately dials a different number, absentmindedly straightening to his full height when Jacob answers. 

“What happened with Cady,” Henry asks, ignoring any pretense of greetings. 

There’s a silence that doesn’t calm the anxiety Cady had created with her panicked, sobbing phone call. 

“She called me, beyond hysterical,” he says after Jacob’s been silent too long for his liking. “She said Walt--” 

He’s cut off by the sound of Jacob chuckling. 

“She is her father's daughter.” The cold tone of Jacob’s voice makes the hair on the back of Henry’s neck stand up. 

“Whatever happened,” he says, pounding his desk with his fist, “It was not--” 

“I know.” Jacob sounds weary now, and Henry finds he can’t blame him. “I know why she did it.” 

Henry pushes aside his want to know what the hell happened, and focuses on the now. “She hung up on me,” Henry admits, finding himself increasingly worried about Cady’s state of mind. 

“If you had to guess…” he trails off, trying to figure out what his god-daughter is up to. 

“Probably the same place I’ll be headed shortly, the Sheriff's Office.” 

Henry can hear the sound of papers shuffling, and the sound of a car electronically being unlocked. “ Do you want me to pick you up?” Jacob asks. 

“I will see you in twenty minutes,” he replies, hoping then, he can get some answers. 

____________________________

The forty-seven minute drive has done nothing to calm the vast expanse of her anger. 

But when she pulls up behind Ferg’s new patrol car, her furious rage is suddenly doused by nervousness. Cady turns, looking over her shoulder at the remaining stakes in her backseat where they laid, silently judging her. 

Walt hadn’t twisted her arm, hadn’t put a gun to her head and made her attack Jacob. But he’d purposefully mislead her; lead her to a conclusion that benefited him alone. 

Slamming the passenger’s side front door too hard, Cady slings her re-packed purse over her shoulder. She yanks open the back door, pulls the stakes out, cradling them in her arms, then kicks the door shut.

Anger begins to unravel again in her stomach as she climbs the stairs and by the time she reaches the landing, she can feel her whole body sweating. It’s bizarre but it gives her flashbacks to when she’d shot J.P. and Walt had been callous, something she’d been trying very hard not to think about lately. 

Ruby’s not at her desk when Cady opens the door, but Ferg looks up from across the room, his eyes going wide at the sight of her. She lifts the stakes over the swinging door, and uses one hand to toss her purse in the direction of Ferg’s old desk. 

Squaring her shoulders, Cady looks to Vic, but Vic’s already watching her with a confused expression. 

“My Dad here,” she asks, feeling her hands twitch at the thought of what’s about to happen. 

Vic nods, and moves to get up but Cady shakes her head, holding a trembling hand out to stop her. 

An ugly vicious feeling is curling up her body, and Cady isn’t sure how much she’s going to be able to get out before she either breaks down, or tries to tear him to pieces. It doesn’t matter though, she decides, feeling both Ferg and Vic watching her nervously. Without putting too much more thought into it Cady releases her hands, letting the stakes fall to the ground with a loud crash. 

Sure enough, she hears the door open immediately, hears his boots on the floor, and watches her dad turn the corner. 

“Vic wha--,” he begins, but Vic motions with her chin, and he pivots, surprise flashing across his tired face. Cady doesn’t move as his eyes roam over her, and then lower, taking in the stakes on the floor.

His brow furrows and Cady tenses, her body feels like a string about to snap. If her brain was capable of clarity, she’d be terrified. Instead, the vicious rage is now crawling up her throat, while Walt stands there looking confused. 

Walt’s mouth opens, and at that exact moment Cady realizes she can’t take another second of it. 

“You fucking liar,” she hears it, knows it’s her mouth, but the coldness pouring out feels like a stranger. “You repugnant ASSHOLE.” She stalks forward, somewhere in her mind she’s gleeful to see the flicker of uneasiness in Walt’s eyes. 

“Cady, I kno-” 

She just about screams, a harsh loud sound falling off her lips. “Oh of COURSE! The great FUCKING WALT LONGMIRE, he knows EVERYTHING.” She’s breathing heavy, and the tears are back, running in hot streaks down her cheeks. “You lied to me, AGAIN,” she hisses, curling her hands into fists that she wants so desperately to hit him with. “You PURPOSEFULLY LIED AND MANIPULATED ME, YOU FUCKING TOLD ME IT WAS JACOB!” She feels completely detached from her own body in that moment, like she’s somewhere else, watching herself suddenly fly forward, putting all her force into hitting him as many times as she can manage. 

He’s breathing hard by the time he shoves her hands down, holding onto her wrists, “All I did was tell you the truth.” 

“OH FUCK YOU!” Cady yells, watching Walt pull back in shock. She takes advantage of it, ripping her hands out of his grasp. “You’d already talked to Henry, he told me!! God, YOU FUCKING--- I FUCKING TOLD YOU this obsessive vendetta was going to get out of control. And GOD FORBID I do ANYTHING other than what’s good for YOU! WHO CARES WHAT I WANT! No, my only ALLOWED role is Sheriff Longmire’s dutiful little daughter.” 

She stops, taking a deep, heaving breath and wiping angrily at her face with the sleeve of her shirt. 

“Well, you’d be real proud Dad,” she says, her voice dripping with furious sarcasm. “I took what you said to heart, you really stuck me in my sweet spot, knowing how much I love Henry. You know, that’s the other DISGUSTING part of this. Dragging Henry’s name into your FUCKING PSYCHOTIC need to prove that Jacob’s the bad guy.” 

Walt blinks, opening his mouth, but Cady puts a still trembling hand up. “Oh no, this isn’t your turn to talk,” she says, still feeling like she’s having an out of body experience. “In fact, I think you’ve done enough talking, don’t you?” Behind Walt, she watches Ferg edge closer and she shakes her head at him. “So where was I?” she asks rhetorically. “Mmm, right, you came to see me, told me a bunch of lies, manipulated me by using Henry as your excuse, and then you bolted like a coward. And I--I..I..,” she stops, pressing her lips together as anxiety hammers in her chest, crushing her ability to speak. 

“Is it true?” 

Ferg has seemingly snuck up on them, standing so close that Cady isn’t sure how he got next to her without her noticing. 

Walt is silent, but his anger is slowly building, Cady can see it in the creases of his eyes. 

“Is it true,” Ferg repeats, looking only at Walt. “Did you do what she’s saying?” 

Walt’s lips flatten, and he shifts his stance, clearly agitated. “Well, I have--” 

“He asked if it was true.” Cady’s surprised to see Vic tuck herself around the water cooler, a hurt look on her normal breezy face. “It’s a yes or no question Walt.” 

They’re all silent, and Walt grinds his jaw, shooting Vic a look, before facing Ferg. “Yes,” he growls angrily. “But--” 

Immediately Ferg and Vic start talking over each other, Ferg rearing back, and Vic waving her hands around. 

The room descends back into silence when Ferg starts removing his equipment belt. 

Cady feels her eyes widen, and she tries to step forward but Ferg shakes his head at her. “I quit,” he says, tossing his belt down, then his work phone. He pulls out his keys, twisting two off and tossing them down with his badge. 

No one speaks as he walks back to his desk, and unloads his gun, then opens a desk drawer, pulling out a small overnight bag. 

Walt turns back, glaring at her, “Goddammit Cady--” 

“Oh don’t you dare!” she shoots back, pulling herself up tall. “You fucking did this all on your own. It’s not like this is the _first_ time you’ve done something shitty,” she continues, getting angry again. “Let’s talk about how you denied my client a restraining order just because you were pissed I was working for Jacob! And then I had to SHOOT A MAN! Let’s talk about HOW YOU SAID AFTER MOM YOU WOULDN’T LIE TO ME AGAIN.” 

“That’s not the same--”

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME,” she shrieks, an incredulous fury rising within her. “DON’T YOU FU--” 

She’s cut off by an arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her away from Walt. She almost fights back, but Henry’s voice floats into her ear and her traitorous body deflates. 

Henry releases her, keeping her behind him while the room quiets down, and soon the only noise is the sound of Ferg clearing his desk. 

Wrapping her arms around herself Cady leans against the short wall, shrugging when Henry raises an eyebrow at her. 

“It would seem that Cady has had enough of your bullshit, Walt.” Before Walt can respond Henry holds up his hand, “I have to say, after hearing the last several minutes, I owe Cady an apology.” 

She blinks, feeling confused as Henry turns back to her. 

“You tried to tell me that he was being, well, like this I suppose, and I did not take you seriously,” He pauses, and Cady can see the regret on his face. “I am sorry I did not listen, it will not happen again.” 

Cady nods, covering her face with her hand to smother the crying that's once again, pouring out of her. 

“I had thought this was all a fluke,” Henry says slowly, turning away from her, and facing Walt. “First, you accused Jacob of letting a mob run a prostitute ring out of the casino. Then, you insisted that he was the mastermind behind everything bad happening in the community, and now you think he’s stupid enough to be involved with having me tied to his own stakes, on a reservation we’re not allowed on?!” 

“Jesus.” She jumps a little at the sound of Ferg’s voice, relaxing when he settles next to her. 

“How the--” he stops, shaking his head. “Nevermind.” He kicks the bag at his feet, then wraps an arm around her . “I might have to sleep on your couch,” he says, sighing as Walt and Henry argue. 

Cady nods, still feeling shaky, grateful to have someone to literally lean on. “Yeah, of course. You can have the guest room an--”, she halts, watching Walt draw up and look past Henry furiously. 

“Sorry about the interruption,” Jacob’s voice says, though his tone doesn’t sound sorry at all. 

Henry steps away from Walt, blocking her from seeing Jacob walk through the swinging door, and she can’t say she isn’t grateful, just seeing the back of his head is making her whole body tremble uncontrollably. 

Walt’s face borders on bafflement, his eyes darting over Jacob’s face, and then over his shoulder at her. After a few words are exchanged, Walt sighs and takes whatever Jacob is holding out to him. 

The shaking hasn’t stopped, and she can feel Ferg press against her tighter. She jumps when Henry reaches out and lightly touches her arm. “I collected your purse,” he says, offering it to her and squeezing her arm when she takes it. 

Jacob walks by again, passing through the swinging door, and Cady stands watching Henry shaking his head at Walt. 

“I’m ready to go, you?” She asks, looking over at Ferg. 

“Cady--” Walt says, before clearing his throat. 

A numb, tired feeling is eating away at her in a way she doesn’t think she’s experienced, ever. Shaking her head, Cady puts her hand on the hinged door, “Honestly, I’m done. I’m just absolutely done with you on every level.” 

She can’t even muster feeling bad when Walt’s eyes get comically huge, and she stares at him, feeling nothing. “Don’t call me, don’t drive by, just…. stay the fuck away from me,” she finishes. She doesn’t even wait for Ferg, or Henry, just turns and continues to the door. She hesitates for a second when she gets close to Jacob, but he doesn’t say a word, just holds the door open for her, leaving her to take the stairs by herself.

____________________________

It was a welcome distraction to walk into her office at the legal aid. She’d left Durant right after assuring Henry that she would call him when she got home in a few hours.

Mandy had clearly cleaned up after she’d left earlier. It’d only been hours, but it felt like seconds and also a lifetime ago. The clock in the main room chimes, and Cady makes an aggravated face at the loud sound. Between all the crying and screaming, a headache is starting to bloom in the back of her skull. Shoving her personal crisis aside, she gives her office a glance, pursing her lips at her desk...the one place Mandy knew not to touch. 

If she was honest with herself, Cady was prepared to be fired the next time she saw Jacob. That didn’t mean she was going to stop doing her job while she waited though. Methodically, she begins to pile papers into various folders, racks, and boxes. For twenty minutes she doesn’t think about how much she wants to still scream at her dad, or the fact that she’d fallen hook, line and sinker for his bullshit, or that she’d no doubt ruined her tentative attempts at __any__ kind of relationship with Jacob. Instead, she puts her head down, not stopping until her desk is clear of every single scrap of paper. A damp sweat is creeping up her back as she pushes away from the desk, and she wanders into the main room, fumbling with the air conditioning buttons. 

_Figures, this whole day is shit_ , she thinks, glaring when the LED screen lights up, announcing the room's temperature at a perfect seventy-two degrees. 

Beams of light sweeping in an arc through the front windows signal a car pulling up, and Cady heads to the door, trying to remember not slip in her wool socks; kicking her boots across the floor when they almost trip her. 

Jacob is about to walk under the porch roof, and she can see him slow down through the curtain as she unlocks the deadbolt. 

She not only doesn’t trust herself to speak, but she’s not even sure what she could possibly say to make the situation better. Silently, she just holds the door open, pressing her face against the glass when he steps through and his arm brushes against hers. 

“Figured we should have a chat,” he says, standing in the middle of the room, his dark eyes skimming her briefly. 

Mentally, Cady prepares herself for what _has_ to be coming, she’s beyond earned getting fired. Beyond. 

No one moves though, and an uneasy feeling grows within her for every second they’re standing still. Now, Jacob is looking through the open doors into her office, his face unreadable in the dim yellow light. 

More minutes crawl by torturously. To go along with a stomach turning unease, Cady’s lungs are refusing her attempts to breathe like a normal person. 

Finally, when her skin begins to crawl, Jacob looks back over at her and frowns. Immediately her stupid eyes fill with tears, and no amount of delicate blinking is convincing them to retreat. 

“When did you eat last?” He asks, and Cady knows she’s positively gaping at him like a moron, tear drops clinging to her lashes. 

Her voice is hoarse after all of her earlier use, and she winces at the sound of herself replying, “I don’t know….earlier....” 

He nods, moving away from her towards the kitchen, and a confused buzzing fills her head. Is he going to feed her and then fire her? Why does he even care? She certainly doesn’t deserve it. 

Jacob pauses in the doorway, sighing like she’s supposed to have done something. “Cady,” he says, and she feels the room sway when she looks at him. He points to the tiny little bedroom she’d set up over a month ago, “Go sit, or better yet, lay down before you pass out.” 

She can hear him in the kitchen as she slides onto the bed, sitting in the corner that’s pushed against two of the walls. Resting her head against the log wall and closing her eyes Cady can’t imagine he’s going to find much, but cabinets are opening and closing, and water is running as she promises herself that she’s just resting her eyes for a moment. 

The sound of stone scratching on wood right next to her head sends her eyes flying open, and she watches Jacob lift his fingers off a steaming mug, a plate in his hand. 

“You were only out for about 20 minutes,” he says, handing her the plate, then heading back out the door. 

Cady stifles a yawn and nods, then drags her eyes down to the plate in her hands. 

It’s just toast. Well, it’s toast with her favorite French cherry jam that she keeps here for late nights. Taking a bite, Cady looks up to see Jacob standing in the doorway with another mug in his hand. 

She curls up her feet, crossing them and balancing the plate on a knee, picking at the crust before licking crumbs off her lips. 

For a moment, Jacob seems to hover in the doorway, and Cady takes the brief stillness to wonder when she’s going to get to see him again like this, after she’s fired. He’s got a butterfly bandage on his forehead...no doubt in her mind it’s a direct result of her deranged attack from this morning. He’s also wearing the same clothes as earlier too. She feels like it should bother her, but she’s sort of blocked herself off from that so she can memorize the slope of his shoulders; and maybe she’ll figure out why she's so constantly drawn to him like a tiny orbiting planet in the vastness of his cosmos, before she spends the rest of the night packing her office. He’s intrigued her for months, and no doubt he’ll continue to, even from afar. 

“So,” Jacob says. 

Cady jumps, almost upsetting the plate of toast, and Jacob steps further into the room, sitting at the other end of the tiny single bed, a move that surprises her. 

“I’ll have a list of replacements for you tomorrow,” she forces it out, and immediately is rewarded with more tears, and unlike before, these escape in slow streams down her face. 

“No, thanks,” Jacob says, his voice slow and edged with something she can’t quite put her finger on. 

Taken aback, Cady feels her eyes widen, drying up in shock. “Are you seriously NOT firing me right now?” 

He sighs, taking a drink of what she knows is chamomile tea, seeing as he’d given it to her. “You made a mistake.” He doesn’t even acknowledge her attempt to respond before continuing, “Can’t say it didn’t hurt my pride,” he shifts, and the look he gives her makes it clear he’s miffed, but it’s not all directed at her. “Besides,” he continues, before taking another sip, “I just hired Archie, and I’d hate to have to fire him too.” 

Her hands are exchanging the plate for the mug when he says it, like he’s talking about how it might rain later, and not how he bailed her childhood friend out of unemployment, and Cady mutters a litany of curse words at the tea that sloshes over the rim and runs down her hand. 

Jacob makes a quiet sound that might be a laugh, and she can’t even unfurl her legs before he’s next to her, wrapping his warm hand around the underside of the mug and her hand in the process. 

“Thanks,” she mutters as they awkwardly twist around each other when she sets the plate aside and stands. Jacob follows her to the kitchen, and she can feel him, not hovering at her back, but solidly _there_. The water is always tepid on the Rez, and she watches the soap bubble down the drain, contemplating her next move. 

“Are you going to let me apologize?” She asks, reaching for a dish towel and drying off her hands. 

“You apologized repeatedly, hours ago, Cady,” Jacob says firmly, stepping up next to her and setting both mugs down on the counter. 

Her reply dissolves at the look on his face and comes out as a loud noise of annoyance while she rubs a hand across her face. She takes her mug back, taking a long drink, and then puts it down, crossing her arms. “Well, maybe I don’t think that was enough,” Cady says, after they’ve both been silent for a few minutes. 

Jacob leans against the counter, facing her, “ You know, Henry and I walked up the stairs right as the door to the office shut behind you,” he says, sticking his hands in his pockets. 

“Oh.” 

“Your voice carries pretty far,” he adds. 

Not for the first time, Cady has a feeling he’s enjoying making her squirm. 

“I mean….,” she gives a weak shrug, and blows out a loud breath. “Just because he’s my dad doesn’t mean he gets to use my feelings as a weapon...” Cady pauses, mentally cursing at her choice of words. She’s so weary, down to her bones, fuck it. Jacob can interpret it any way he wants, God knows her Dad has. “....anymore.” 

Her head is swimming...this was already a fickle thing between them, and she figures her best bet is to put some literal distance between them. She can't be tempted to blab every detail of her crush on him if she’s not looking at him. As it is, she spends most of her time trying to talk herself _out_ of said feelings. 

She pushes off from her spot in front of the sink, stopping when Jacob utters the exact sentence she _knew_ was coming. “You mean Henry?” 

Cady turns back, and Jacob raises an eyebrow at her. “No,” she says, before her throat can close up. “No, I don’t mean _just_ Henry.” 

She doesn’t wait for him to respond, or even move before she flees. She makes it all the way into her office before she hears him start his approach from the kitchen, she can tell the second he crosses the threshold, and feels his eyes on her as she half-heartedly paws at her already organized files. 

“Cady…” he says quietly, and she stops, sighing as she lets her hands drop. 

“It's not…” Fuck. She rubs at her face, turning to face him, trying not to be too obvious in her nervousness when she finds that he’s just on the other side of the desk. 

“It’s not what?” 

She wants to scream, feeling herself reaching the end of her ability to censor her own words. God, she should have just kept her mouth shut! “You're important too,” she starts carefully, pressing her palms into the top of her chair, hard “...to me, and…” she trails off, making an unsatisfied noise in the back of her throat. 

A loud knock on the door has Cady internally fist pumping. Quickly, she bolts out of her office and peeks through the curtain on the front door. Breathing a sigh of relief, she swings the door open, greeting her adoptive aunt with a watery smile. “You have no idea how good it is to see you,” Cady says, briefly laying her head on the older woman’s shoulder. 

“Henry called and said you might need some company,” May says in her calm way, stepping inside. 

A swarm of nerves wrestle in her stomach when she looks away from May and spots Jacob, who is leaning against the open glass doors of her office. 

“I’m fine,” Cady starts, stopping and chewing on her lip when May gives her an unconvinced look. “It was just….Walt,” she says, taking a deep breath, and avoiding looking at Jacob. “It’ll...blow over,” she finishes lamely. 

May’s skeptical look could rival Henry’s at this point, and Cady shakes her head. “I really don’t want to talk about it.” She can hear the wobble in her voice, and May’s face shifts to sympathy. 

“Promise me you’ll stop by on your way out,” May asks, and Cady doesn’t miss her eyes sliding over to Jacob briefly, or their mutually silent greeting. 

Promise made, Cady watches May leave, turning back towards Jacob after the door closes with a soft sound.

“Cady--” 

“I’m sorry--” 

They both speak at the same time, and Jacob huffs an exasperated sounding noise. “Stop,” he says, giving her a firm look. “Stop apologizing,” he sighs, moving towards her. “I get why you did it, Cady. I forgive you, it’s done.” 

There’s nothing harsh about his voice. In fact, it reminds her distinctly of the aftermath following the shooting, slightly soothing with no typical pity in the underlying tones. Something she can really appreciate right now. 

“I don’t know how you can just…” she trails off, waving her hand to finish her sentence. 

“I’m choosing too,” Jacob says, stopping in front of her. “I know who you are Cady, one mistake doesn’t change that.” 

Tears are pooling in her eyes for the umpteenth time, and Cady’s not really sure how she has any left. She tries to keep her voice steady, “I think you said something like, self righteous hostility but with more elegance….I guess that’s correct, if you add in sheer stupidity.” 

Jacob nods, and she thinks she can see a ghost of a smirk on his lips briefly. “Mmmm, I’d like to amend that statement one of these days.” 

“I mean...you’ll have to make an appointment,” she says, matching his snarky tone. 

He actually laughs, a sound she’s never heard, and she tries to ignore the way her stomach drops, wiping at her eyes. 

“You know Walt’s gonna show up in a few days...” Jacob says, his voice low and serious. 

She makes an ugly noise, crossing and uncrossing her arms. “Yeah, he might, but I don’t wanna talk about it right now,” she says, the faint edges of a cold rage tugging at her subconscious. 

They stand in silence for a long moment. Cady gets a weird, almost deja vu feeling when she tries to step to the left, and Jacob takes a half step forward. She starts to turn and sucks in quick breath when she can feel him shifting too, their arms and hands tangling together to prevent a fall. 

The movement extends the silence, and she knows she’s reaching for scant dregs of bravery as she meets his eyes. “I already made one misstep today,” she says, swallowing down a nervous, sort of hysterical laugh, “You’ll have to take this one.” 

He tilts his head just a fraction, and his fingers lightly trace up her arm. It’s a quiet sort of rebellion, she realizes, when compared the events of the last few hours that had flown by like a giant blur of absolute fuckery. She pulls herself as upright as she can, noting that he’s actually taller than her, and tries to keep her breathing from faltering when their lips brush for a second.

Later, she’ll spend too much time analyzing the fact that they move at the same time. 

Jacob’s hand follows the curve of her shoulder, his fingertips pressing into her neck, pulling her closer. In the same breath, she presses her hands into his button up shirt, catching fistfulls of the maroon fabric. 

Their eyes meet and she doesn’t waver, letting herself sway a little closer. “Cady,” he says, and her name is filled with questions, and a tenderness that makes her chest tighten. 

She can’t speak, she doesn’t really want to for one, so she nods, tightening her hands until she knows her knuckles are white. He closes the last millimeters of space between them, and Cady lets her eyes flutter close, pushing up on her tiptoes, kissing him back...nothing registering but his hands moving, and then his arm wrapping around her waist. 

Her mind tries to hold on to the last bits of logic between kisses and shared air. It’s futile when his hands are traveling across her body though, one down her back, his fingers curling under her belt, pulling her fully against him. “This way,” she says against his lips, pulling at him and stepping backwards. 


End file.
